


Confinement

by orphan_account



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, emo but soft, emosoft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 11:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jason still remembers what it was like when he first awoke from the dead, the wooden coffin scratching against his skin, the earth tainted air stifling.Kyle helps him forget.





	Confinement

**Author's Note:**

> i have a headcanon that Jason doesn't like closed spaces after his death, so he has conflicted feelings about the helmet he always wears.

Despite wearing a helmet for most of the day and the night, he preferred open spaces. Fresh air gently caressed his face as he removed the stuffy thing from his head, sweat dripping down his neck, his hair matted into a mess. He never liked the feeling of being trapped, not necessarily claustrophobia, not to that degree, but he relished in freedom.

He made his way back to his apartment, the night’s mission of subduing petty pawns of the underworld for information complete. The Boss’ themselves would be a task for another day, another night. As soon as he locked the door behind him, he walked purposely toward the narrow windows behind the couch, propping them open to let cool air waft in. His face still felt hot from the helmet, his body suffocating. Quickly he shed the leather jacket from his body, draping it across the back of the couch before striding to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The apartment was well lived in. His foot caught on something and he stumbled forward, cursing under his breath. Of course it was a fucking tube of paint. Of fucking course. Kyle had a knack for leaving his art supplies strewn all over the floor in various piles organized by medium: canvases stacked against the bookcase, technicolor tubes of paint beside the couch, piles of oil pastels staining the hardwood floor next to the makeshift coffee table, sketching pencils rolling atop the end table scratching at the base of a lamp. He huffed an exasperated breath at the scene before continuing his walk to the kitchen.

Crisp water just touched his tongue as he heard a door open behind him, Kyle emerging from the bedroom. His hair was wet, presumably from a shower, and it dripped down his bare chest, all the way to the dip in his hips to seep into the waistband of his sweatpants. He gulped down his water quickly against the lump in his throat, the sight of Kyle making his mouth even more dry.

“Hey,” Kyle grinned, pleasantly surprised at the sight of Jason.

“Hey,” Jason gasped after chugging a full glass of water and moving for more.

“Thirsty?” Kyle laughed.

“Mhm,” he hummed.

_In more ways than one._

Jason turned towards the faucet, not bothering with the bottles of spring water in the fridge. He needed something closer, more immediate, his face still feeling flushed, his body begging for air, for hydration, for something to make him feel less constricted. Kyle wandered up behind him, snaking his arms around his abdomen, his chest flush against his back. He leaned his head forward resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Jason melted into the embrace, allowing his body to mold to Kyle’s form.

Oddly enough Jason was a cuddler, despite the fact that his skin crawled whenever he felt confined, his heart thrashing against his sternum whenever he felt trapped. The helmet had a filter built in for oxygen, but somehow the air he received from it always tasted stale and his fingers itched to scratch the damned thing off.

He hated all of these things and more, anything that made him remember the feeling of being in a box with six feet of compacted earth weighing him down. Usually another human being, especially one as taught with muscle as Kyle was, would weigh upon him even more so. However he found the pressure of another body pressed against his calming somehow, reminding him that he was indeed alive. 

Glass clinked against the metal sink loudly as he finished his water. Kyle began peppering his neck with kisses, starting at his jawline just behind his ear, moving down along his pulse.

“Lets go to bed,” he murmured against Jason’s skin. “It's late.”

“Yeah.”

Jason reached an arm back, cupping Kyle’s face and pressing it closer to his own for more skin to skin contact. After a moment, Kyle stepped back, placing his hands on Jason’s hips and pivoting them both in one fluid motion before guiding him to the bedroom, his grip never broken. They crossed the threshold, their destination clearly the bed before Kyle’s hands suddenly tensed and he changed their trajectory toward the bathroom.

“Wait, wait,” Kyle said. “You stink.”

Jason didn't have to turn around to know that Kyle was scrunching up his nose as he spoke. He rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be moved and then pushed unceremoniously into the bathroom.

As soon as the heat from Kyle’s body disappeared, his body was wracked with a violent shiver, the white tile walls closing in on him. He showered quickly, wanting desperately to leave the small space in favor of the large open bed that was awaiting him. 

He emerged from the bathroom to find Kyle already in bed curled on his side facing the opposite way, his breathing soft and quiet. He clicked his tongue, somewhat disappointed his lover had fallen asleep before he returned. Jason slipped on some briefs before crawling beneath the thin blanket and laid next to Kyle. He watched his back for a moment, the soothing rise and fall and the way his bare shoulder blades expanded like wings. His fingers twitched, silently begging for movement. He wanted to be petty, to shake Kyle awake, but he couldn't bring himself to wake his sleeping lover who looked so peaceful. So he turned to face the other way so as not to disturb the other man, dissatisfaction sinking into his gut, heavy. The wall stared blankly at him, bland and off-white, unrelenting. Blood rushed through every vessel in his body, pounding too loudly in the stillness of the night, his mind wandering wildly. 

Just as it all became too much, the thoughts, his pounding heart, his skin crawling with invisible bugs, his muscles twitching for movement to release the tight coils, Kyle rolled over draping an arm over Jason. He breathed a sigh of relief, scooting backwards as Kyle shifted forward. They were pressed firmly against each other, Kyle tightening his hold against Jason's chest, his hand flat against his pec while the other arm created a makeshift pillow for Jason's head. Soon their breathing synced, and Jason thought Kyle had fallen back asleep.

“You okay,” he murmured, breath ghosting Jason's neck, voiced hushed in the night. 

Jason turned his head into the crook of Kyle’s arm, breathing in the smell of their honey-lemon scented body soap. He closed his eyes against his skin, finally feeling relaxed for the first time since he got home.

“I'm okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
